


Misspent

by Dissipating_Mango



Series: zadr ficlets [5]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dib is an asshole, Dubious Consent, Lactation, M/M, Post Mpreg, Unhealthy Relationships, maternal zim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissipating_Mango/pseuds/Dissipating_Mango
Summary: A snapshot into a zadr relationship with a newborn smeet. Read the tags and decide for yourself
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: zadr ficlets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543489
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	Misspent

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this is the epitome of 'don't like don't read.' If you do not want to see a story about Dib breastfeeding from Zim, it would be in your best interest to skedaddle. 
> 
> I actually had a dream about this scenario and wrote it a couple months ago, but am just now deciding to post it because my dignity has worn down to a shadow of it's former glory and I no longer care about my image lmao. Enjoy

A sharp, overpowering cry lacerated the quiet.

This was exactly why Zim hated doing touchy-feely things with their smeet still in the room. 

But, Dib could be quite persuasive with his pleading eyes and soft massaging touches. Gentle lips on sore, cracked nipples was certainly a nice change of pace from the biting, suckling, improper latching they were beginning to get accustomed to. 

But the sound of his sweet smeet crying yanked the sexual desire right out of his chest and slapped it against the ground without mercy. 

"Dib." He ran clawed fingers through black hair. "Let me go." 

Amber eyes met his, as if to question why he should possibly stop, though really the answer was obvious. Dib wasn't stupid. He could hear the hiccupy sobs just as well. 

Zim sighed and spelled it out anyway. "Our smeet needs to be fed, let me go." 

Hands curled roughly around his wrists and Zim paused. He hadn't done that in years.

Dib's gentle sucking turned purposeful and intense. Rose colored milk dribbled down his chin and he lapped droplets from the other side with his tongue. 

"That milk isn't for _you_!" 

About as smug as one could look suckling from an alien's chest, Dib stared Zim down, gaze harsh. A hand left his wrist and travelled further south, stroking and coaxing his wiggly length into the open. 

"D-Dib!" He snapped, a feeble attempt to sound disciplinary that ended in a breathy gasp. The sucking, the rubbing; Dib could play his body like a voot cruisers control panel. And ever since the pregnancy he'd become even more sensitive, a fact Dib milked as much literally as figuratively. 

Zim couldn't deny it felt good. Physically, anyway. 

The repeated cries of his smeet hit like a dull knife in his spooch and Zim envied the nonchalance Dib continued with. How could he still be in the mood when their offspring was in distress? 

A dark thought crept into his mind that, perhaps their smeet being in distress, _was_ part of the mood for him...

But no, not his Dib. Dib could be weird and uneasy, but he, he wouldn't. He was just ignoring the cries, he wasn't getting off on them. It was just a coincidence he sucked harder at the same time the sobs crescendoed. Dib loved him. Dib loved their smeet. 

And when Dib finished, cleaned off his thigh and kissed him so so tenderly, thanked him and praised him, Zim was infatuated with his passionate display; willing to ignore the sickly sweet taste of milk on his tongue. Still, it had to be cut short, their smeet needed to be attended to. Dib flopped back onto the bed and Zim plucked their darling babe into his arms. The perfect little creature, made of perfect individuals. 

Latching would always be a struggle, their baby with the needs of a human and the instinct of an Irken. But Zim was so leaky, he could usually stimulate manually and allow their smeet to lap the droplets in a pinch. 

That wasn't working right now though. 

Pulse racing, Zim tried the other side. Still nothing. The harsh exhales of a tiny body completely dependent him, a body he was failing to provide for, stripped him down raw. He began to cry, bringing his smeet desperately to his chest and heaving. 

"Whoa, Zim what's wrong?" Zim pressed his face into Dib's warm belly and continued to weep. "Hey it's okay, it's okay, let me see the baby-" 

"NO!" 

This was all Dib's fault. It was always Dib's fault. It was his fault for getting them into this mess in the first place, with his _stupid_ human desires and then later of course, his ignorance to their genetic compatibilities. And now it was his fault their smeet was going to go hungry. 

His antennae danced over their baby's head, smelling the distress pheromones that only weighed him down with more guilt.

"Hey, come on, talk to me." 

"YOU!" Zim cried, scurried away from his comforting touch. "Zim is empty of milk! Our smeet will wither and die because of you!" 

Dib crossed his arms. "That's a little dramatic don't you think?" 

Zim pouted, bottom lip quivering and tears dripping down his chin. 

"I can guarantee you your milk will be back soon. You're like what, a month postpartum?" Dib bent down and picked him up, a strange parallel to the way Zim was holding their child. 

"Trust me, give it a couple hours. Maybe not even that much, you'll be fine." 

"But our smeet is hungry now!" 

Dib scoffed. "I told you you should start pumping so we could _have_ backups, but you keep refusing my suggestions." 

Zim stared at the closed eyes of their tiny newborn. She had finally stopped crying, tiring herself out into a slumber. Swallowing, Zim ran a finger along her needle thin antenna. She was so _small_.

Dib laid them down on the plush bed, smeet on Zim's chest, and faced him. He pet along her back, the spot a PAK would've been had she not been conceived under such exceptional circumstances. Irkens weren't supposed to have parents. Irkens weren't supposed to _be_ parents. 

"Are you mad at me?" 

"Yes." 

Dib sighed and pushed his face into the pillow. 

"Everything is going to be okay, we've got this." 

He kissed the top of Zim's head and then her's. She stirred a little and Zim held her tighter. 

"You're a great mama, you take care of her so well," he murmured, stroking their baby's cheek. "And I love you so much."

With a sigh, Zim laid his head on Dib's shoulder, hands resting on Zim's belly in a calm tableau. Their smeet could just barely grasp Dib's pinky finger in her sleep, tiny claws half as large as a grain of rice. 

They made it through the first month. They could make it work. 


End file.
